Phantom Footsteps
by Crysanth
Summary: Sasuke has the misfortune of seeing ghosts; Naruto has the misfortune of being one. Somewhere along the way, Hinata is caught in the middle, and the three are forced to fight together against the rising darkness in the shinobi world. Eventual NaruHina.


Naruto Uzumaki was dead. Absolutely, positively, and one hundred percent dead.

Of this, Sasuke was pretty damn certain.

Granted, he hadn't actually seen it happen, but all the defining factors were there. The vase of white lilies on Naruto's empty desk. The look on Iruka-sensei's face as he broke the news. The obituary in the local newspaper. The new ROOMS FOR RENT sign outside Naruto's old apartment building. And the fact that, gee, the moron just wasn't around anymore, and he had to go _somewhere_.

So, yes. Naruto was definitely dead.

So _how, _how in the seven circles of _hell_, was he standing in Sasuke's bedroom?

* * *

_That Afternoon_

"Class dismissed," said Iruka-sensei with a sigh. "I think we could all use a little free time this afternoon."

The students began milling about in a slightly more subdued manner than usual as they packed up their books and their practice kunai for another day. Their whispers were rather quieter than usual, and their antics rather less exuberant. They all seemed to be a little dazed and off-kilter. Stunned, perhaps, at their first experience of loss; many of them probably had never even had a pet die, let alone a classmate.

A couple of the girls looked ready to cry, actually. Some of the boys, too, but they hid it a little better. It probably wasn't so much actual mourning as just shock and confusion, but it was enough to spread a sense of pain over the classroom.

There were a few notable exceptions.

Shikamaru, for one, looked more contemplative than sad as he patted a bawling Choji's shoulder. Shino was as stone-faced as ever; only the slightest quirk of his eyebrows hinted that he even knew anything was astray. Sasuke was staring out the window with his usual contemptuous expression, not even slightly disturbed.

And little, timid, shy-as-a-bunny Hinata Hyuga was frowning fiercely.

Sasuke looked away from the window when he noticed class was over. As he glanced over in Hinata's direction, he did a double take. Granted, she looked about as threatening as a bit of dandelion fluff, but this was _Hinata_. She never frowned. She never really smiled, either, but the idea of her being _angry_ or _upset_ was completely foreign. Sasuke had always figured her for someone who would start crying or run away in the face of pain. Not this sudden, strange _hardness_ that was emanating from her careful posture.

He'd have sworn the temperature of the room dropped ten degrees when she opened her eyes and got up to leave.

The class was silent, then burst into a buzz of sound.

Huh.

Feeling slightly disturbed, Sasuke shoved his books into his bag and stood up, making his way to the door. He had better things to do than sit around being all weepy with the rest of his classmates.

"Che. Pathetic," he hummed under his breath as he walked down the hallways. He could give it to Shikamaru and Choji, maybe, and possibly Kiba for looking a little glum. They at least had hung out with the moron and skipped class with him once or twice. They had the right to mourn him; they were probably the closest things to friends that the moron had.

But the others, say, Sakura? She had hated him. Treated him like scum, less than dirt, just like most people had. But no, now that he was dead, she felt so damned guilty and self-conscious that she broke down into tears. She wasn't mourning for his sake, she was crying because she felt bad about how she had acted towards him and wanted a vent for her confused, hurt feelings.

And she wasn't the only one. Naruto was the class loser. _Everyone _had hated him. It was just typical of his classmates to all suddenly pretend that they had all been his best friends. God. He just wanted to hurl sometimes at the thought of them being Konoha's hope for the future; they were worse than pathetic. His classmates, shinobi? Not in a thousand years.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Thinking of that would only make him needlessly upset.

Time to focus on the present.

With mild surprise, he noticed that he had wandered to the enough; he needed to get his kunai checked out for cracks, anyway. And he could probably stand to pick up some groceries, he thought with a frown. He couldn't remember when he had last done so, and his refrigerator was becoming uncomfortably bare of tomatoes. He needed fresh milk, too, and laundry detergent, and he had forgotten to get a new clothesline the last time he came into town. He needed a new notebook, as well.

All the same, instinct had him making a beeline for the tomato stand.

Mm. Hundreds and hundreds of tomatoes overflowing from baskets. Most were red, but they came in pale green, dark violet, and every color in between. Divided into different bins based on size, juiciness, age, where they were picked, shape and variety. One was on the counter on a paper plate. It had been cut into half and then into dozens of slices dripping with sweet juice that made Sasuke's mouth water just looking at them.

The elderly vendor picked up a slice and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and studiously ignoring Sasuke's presence.

Ah, tomatoes.

Sasuke loved them.

"Morning, Izayama-san," he said politely as he inspected the produced with a practiced eye.

Usually he didn't bother with manners, but Izayama-san was the exception. He was old, crabby, and more stuck-up than a main house Hyuga. He was also the only damn place in Konoha where you could get halfway decent tomatoes, and he didn't stand for rude customers. Sasuke was willing to compromise a bit for tomatoes.

And to be completely honest, his tomatoes were more than decent. They were _heavenly_.

"Ch," replied the elderly man, surveying Sasuke with a myopic squint. "Back again, boy?"

"Have any of those that you sold me last week?" Sasuke inquired. "They were good enough. And I don't suppose you have anything better around this place; your selection has gotten worse lately. It must be your age catching up on you."

"Pah!" spat Izayama with a furious grimace. "Impudent brat! You wouldn't know a proper tomato from a red pepper! It just figures that you wouldn't appreciate the subtle bitterness of a plue; go on, boy! You'd be better off going to a candy shop and getting some sweets. Shoo!"

"How disappointing. You used to boast that you had the best tomatoes in Konoha. I could find better tomatoes at a supermarket."

"At a supermarket!" The old man's thick white brows knitted together in disgust. "You've no idea! Mass-producing tomatoes on farms the size of a village, they all taste the same! They taste like nothing! Real tomatoes, I have. Tomatoes that grew from the sun and the earth and the Fire Country air. With real tomatoes, you can taste the rain and sun! Cut them open and smell the life in them! You and every other brat in the village, every tomato tastes the same to you."

"Sounds to me like you're just making excuses," Sasuke pointed out with carefully feigned apathy. "None of the tomatoes here are anything special. And, well, if this is your limit... I suppose it isn't your fault, we all get slower with age..."

"This?" cried the old man, eyes flashing, one hand waving wildly to indicate the merchandise, "This is nothing! A fraction of my skill! You think I have nothing special! You think my old age has made my judgement falter? Well, we'll just see about that, young master!"

_Hook, line, and sinker_, thought Sasuke smugly as the old man ducked behind the counter.

After a few minutes of rummaging, Izayama emerged with a small cardboard box cradled in his arms as if it were his firstborn son. He carefully peeled off the clear tape and folded the flaps aside. There, nestled together in the box, were a round dozen perfect, ripe, Campari tomatoes. Sasuke could smell them from at least a meter away, and had to stop himself from drooling.

"My secret merchandise: I only bring this out for tough cases, but if this doesn't convince you, you're a lost cause!" Izayama's callused, knotted, arthritic fingers moved deftly to snatch up one of the tomatoes and present it to him. "I grew these myself in my own garden! Nowhere in the world will you find a more perfect tomato!"

"Hm," said Sasuke, reaching for his wallet. "I'll take them."

"Oh, no, you won't!"

That stopped him short. "Sorry?"

"I'm not selling these! One, I can perhaps spare, but no more! These are precious; the daimyo's sister-in-law had just one slice and begged me to come be her personal gardener! The diplomats from Takigakure bought one and took it back to their Kage, and the next day he signed the treaty! These tomatoes are not for mass sale!"

"Takigakure doesn't have a Kage. It's run by a merchant oligarchy."

And so the haggling began.

Thirty minutes later, a very pleased Sasuke was walking off with four Camparis and several dozen other tomatoes. An exasperated Izayama declared that his shop was closed for the afternoon and went home to take a very long rest.

* * *

"Damn, that took longer than I expected," muttered Sasuke as the evening bell began to ring.

He'd finished his shopping, mostly, but it was almost sundown. He'd have to stay up later than he'd hoped to finish all of his homework for the night, not to mention any training he wanted to get in. He hissed in irritation, but turned to head home.

Maybe if he ran home he wouldn't have to warm up for so long, he thought, breaking into a jog. Skipping out on his daily practice regime was not an option. Not if he ever wanted to catch up to Ita- _that man_ and finally get his revenge. He had to catch up. He _was_. Slowly but steadily. He was the top of his class by far, way beyond the second-place student, Shino. (He forcibly ignored the thought that by the time Itachi was his age, he was already an ANBU captain.)

He would surpass his brother, and then the Uchiha clan would finally be able to be at rest. The stain upon their honor would be washed away by Itachi's blood, and he would finally be able to restore the clan to their former- OUCH!

"What the hell?" he hissed through gritted teeth as his head stopped spinning. He had run into something whilst lost in thought; embarrassing, yes, but it didn't _feel_ like he'd hit a wall.

"Oh! Ah a-ah, eeep!" The unmistakeably soft, stuttering voice of Hinata Hyuga reached his ears.

He opened his eyes and stood, brushing the dirt off of his palms. A quick check confirmed that his tomatoes were undamaged, if slightly dusty. Only after he had scanned his other groceries did he grudgingly go to help Hinata stand up and gather her fallen items.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh! A-ano, Uchiha-kun!" Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry! I-I didn't see you there!"

"My fault," said Sasuke, vaguely wondering how the heirs of the two greatest doujutsu in the world could possibly have a blind collision in the streets. "Here, I'll help you get your stuff."

As if only just realizing that she had dropped her things, her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, no!"

Together, the two of them managed to gather up all of the things in just a few minutes. A few of Hinata's supplies- herbs, ointments, and a few bandages, apparently she was into home remedies- ended up slightly dusty and trodden-upon, but none of them were damaged beyond repair. There was, however, just one bundle that made Sasuke really raise an eyebrow.

"White lilies?" he said curiously. "I didn't know you were friends with Naruto. Or are they for a family member?"

"Eeh?" Hinata turned a brilliant shade of red- then, interestingly enough, paled to a ghostly white. "B-both. Some of them are t-to lay on my m-mother's grave and on m-my uncle's memorial. And... I-I was not very close friends with N-Naruto-kun, b-but I have always- ano- always a-admired him. He, ano, helped m-me when w-we were younger. H-he w-was always very cheerful and happy, even, ano, when he was h-having a hard time, a-and he n-never gave up. He inspired me."

She seemed to realize that she was rambling and stopped suddenly. Sasuke wasn't the most astute at observing relationships, but he could put two and two together. Huh, go figure. Naruto had a fan.

"Well," he said with disinterest, "I did wonder where those flowers came from. Iruka-sensei was my best guess, but I suppose this makes more sense."

"Mm." Hinata seemed determined to be quiet now. Well, that was fine by him.

"So, do you need any help getting home?" he asked, hoping desperately she would say no. It was really getting dark out, and he needed to get home and start making dinner. And start training, and finish his homework... and _damn, _he was tired.

"No, thank you," she said to his internal relief. "I am grateful for your help. Have a good evening, Uchiha-kun."

"Any time..." he trailed off as she bowed and turned away. When she was a suitable distance away, he let out a breath. "Or not. _Mataku_, what a waste of time."

Plus, it seemed that the girl was bipolar or something, considering how she had acted in class that day.

Well, on the bright side- at least he hadn't bumped into Sakura. Or Ino.

The thought of it made him shiver as he headed back home, this time at a slower pace. Hopefully he could manage a fairly peaceful evening of training before bed. He had a lot to fit in, but he could make it if he didn't encounter any more disturbances that evening. And really, what were the odds of finding another huge waste of time in the next few hours?

Oh, he had _no idea._

* * *

Sasuke kicked off his dusty sandals before entering his house.

He paid no mind to the echoing silence of the unoccupied rooms and the untraveled hallways, though that same quality had tormented him when he was younger. By now, he was used to solitude, and put his unease aside to relax in the peace and quiet of his house. The still air was relaxing and cool, and only the barest memory of the scent of blood lingered from his nightmares. He could appreciate the evening cicadas without overtones of agonized screams of women and children and the elderly.

No, those things stayed in his nightmares.

He left his school bag on the kitchen table and went over to the counter, socks padding softly against the smooth wood floors. Onto the counter, he placed his bag of tomatoes, all two dozen of them, the milk, some eggs, a bag of rice and some edamame. The milk went into the fridge- it was probably ruined already from being out in the hot Konoha sun for so long- along with the eggs. The rice went into the cupboard. The edamame, into the freezer.

The tomatoes, though- they had their own special spot.

Sasuke retrieved the basket he'd left on his kitchen table. There was just one small tomato left, and he popped it straight into his mouth. Thank goodness he'd had the presence of mind to go shopping- it would've been a pain to make an early-morning run just to pick up a couple of crappy tomatoes at the grocer's. And he most certainly did not want to spend a day without any tomatoes at all.

He then placed all of the tomatoes in the basket neatly. After a few minutes, he had organized them into an intricate arrangement of tomatoes of various sizes, topped by his four prized Camparis that he'd extracted so neatly from Izayama.

There.

Pleased with his success, he left them on the table as a centerpiece. Then he grabbed his satchel and headed down the hall towards his bedroom, fully intending to make the most of his evening and finish his homework quickly.

With a tired hum, he stopped at his bedroom door and slid it open, and blinked.

And blinked.

And raised one hand in the Rat seal, gathered his chakra, and said, "Kai."

And blinked again.

"What's wrong,_ teme_? Not going to say hello?" asked Naruto Uzumaki cheekily.

And no. Sasuke Uchiha was most certainly NOT going to say hello. Because Naruto was incompetent, annoying, an idiot, a trespasser, a pest, and very unwelcome. Moreover, despite any evidence to the contrary, he was absolutely completely and without a single shred of doubt, dead.

And so it seemed that Sasuke's nightmares had started ahead of schedule today.

* * *

**A/N:** This fic will NOT be NaruSasuHina, except in terms of completely platonic friendship. It MAY be either NaruHina or SasuHina, depending on which strikes my fancy. It will NOT be NaruSasu or SasuNaru either. Feel free to express your hopes/wishes for pairings within these guidelines, keeping in mind that pairings will NOT be a huge part of this fic.

Reviews are welcome. Flames are politely discouraged, but I'm not an idiot. I know I'll be getting one or two. If you ask questions, I will try to answer but I request that you leave me some way of contacting you: so if you disable your PMs, that's a no-go. Or anon reviewers. Beta offers are welcome, too, but please only offer if you feel you can help, not because you want sneak previews. I've had to deal with that, and it isn't fun for anyone.

I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading.


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